


A Burglar Indeed

by adrift_me



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 11:05:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18548503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: Where at long last a much needed rest finds the company, Bilbo and Thorin find something else.Written for a phrase prompt, "I will protect you, no matter what."





	A Burglar Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been very inspired recently, but bluebeholder gave me this sweet prompt and I just had to do something with it :)
> 
> By the way, if you have any bagginshield prompts, you can throw them my way, I'd love to write them for you!  
> [Send them to my inbox on tumblr :)](http://accio-toffy.tumblr.com)

They take rest beneath a rock that hides them from the moon, the wind and possible danger. There is enough space for the whole company, their things, and they even manage to light a decent fire that wouldn’t give away their presence. The smell of cooked meats and vegetables is bound to improve morale, and though Bilbo has never had a need for it before, he has read enough adventure books to be aware of it.

He is in charge of cooking with a silent accord. It is just so natural, and relaxing, to pick up spoons and ladles they have in their backpacks, set up a pot over the fire and prepare a stew. It helps him take his mind off things, but doesn’t quite help in taking his eyes off Thorin who makes point of giving him occasional smiles. It is both heartwarming and unnerving, and Bilbo can’t decide which it is.

Thorin hugged him today. He can still feel the crushing might of the dwarf’s strength, but not just that - fondness and yearning that Bilbo has never been drowned in before. Of course, he has been hugged, but those embraces were of friendship or good will or motherly love. But never with such… a need of a heart.

And he has never hugged that way back before, too. Until today.

The stew is finally ready and Bilbo pours hearty servings of it to the company who happily eat and praise Bilbo’s skill. Thorin is surprisingly the last in line to receive his share, and Bilbo’s heart misses a beat when two hands, adorned with rings, hold out a plate.

“Thorin,” Bilbo says as if they’ve not spoken today. The dwarf smiles at him, his visage even warmer against the campfire.

“Master Baggins. We are lucky to have you,” he says as Bilbo pours the food for him too. His cheeks blush, could be praise and could be warmth, and his eyes look into the pot instead of Thorin’s piercing eyes. He counts onions and slices of carrots in the stew, quite a few potatoes and some greenery -

“Bilbo?”

The hobbit doesn’t remember Thorin calling him by his name, not quite so gently, not so warmly, warmer than fire itself. So he braves to look up.

“Thank you,” Thorin says and walks away to enjoy the food, leaving Bilbo with a handful of questions to wonder about. What the thank you was for, the food, the saving of his life, a simple gratitude - Bilbo doesn’t know.

Eventually the fire calms down, and the dwarves lie down for a deeply needed sleep. Some try to huddle together for warmth, others settle by the embers. Bilbo, however, cannot find sleep no matter how warm or cold it is. So he brings out his pipe, stuffed with what’s left of his fine tobacco, and lights it up. The taste and smell of smoke makes him homesick, but watching it float away calls him for more adventures instead.

There is light clanking of armor as Thorin approaches and sits beside Bilbo unceremoniously. He has a pipe of his own, much more intricate in its carvings, and Thorin’s tobacco is of a different kind completely. In silence they smoke and ponder on the days passed and days to come yet.

Until Thorin breaks the silence.

“You made me question myself, master Baggins.”

“How so?” Bilbo says quietly, staring onto the green valley.

“I have confidence in my very blood. My every step is observed by my people and ancestors alike. I don’t like being unsure, for it brings more questions than answers that a ruler needs. I did not believe in you, Bilbo. I have been wrong.”

“Yes… you said so,” Bilbo smiles, looking at Thorin whose shoulder is now pressed to his, and he has somehow failed to notice. Perhaps, he was the one to lean first.

“I did, and I would say so again. You see, I now question everything. Even this adventure. My ability to protect. I have never been taught lessons like this, and I want to prove useful, a leader everyone expects me to be,” Thorin says, and there is something impossibly emotional about the way he speaks. He cares, in every word, he cares.

“Never doubt yourself. And if I may say so, I will protect you, no matter what.”

Thorin smiles so brightly, the creases on his face making him impossibly handsome. The way his eyes smile without even trying.

“You are a burglar indeed, master Baggins,” Thorin says, and Bilbo’s heart sinks for a moment. “You seem to have stolen a part of my confidence. And, perhaps, more.”

Bilbo laughs together with the king, their shoulders linked, and their pipes smoking in unison. When the laughter ceases, Bilbo finds his head resting on Thorin’s shoulder, where the fur is soft and warm, and the lips that kiss his forehead so hot and pleasant. He pretends to have fallen asleep, but fears his heart might be giving his pretence away by beating so very loud.

He didn’t lie, not really. Facing so many dangers on this part of their adventure made him confident indeed. And it is not the ring in his pocket or foolish bravery that made him say so - he genuinely hopes he can protect Thorin. And maybe not die in trying.

But it so happens, that Thorin will do his best to protect him, too.


End file.
